So much harder than I could ever have thought

So has going to Speedway been as bad as I feared?

In my last post I talked about what I go through to enjoy my passion for Speedway. So far I have been to three speedway meetings. The last one was particularly frustrating as the weather that day had been the classic 'will it won't it be rained off'. We decided to go for it as reports from the track were that they hadn't had a huge amount of rain. Unfortunately we were at the track when they decided to cancel it because of the weather just thirty minutes before the start time. So although I saw nothing, I still had to suffer the 'payback'.

It has been so much harder than in previous years. The pain increases far more during the meeting to the point that it breaks through my enjoyment, as much as I try to ignore it. Which goes to show how bad it is, because I'm loving the speedway so much. Shout myself hoarse I do! I have always lightly rested my programme board on my knee. Was amazed to find that it is now too painful. I placed a fleecy blanket over the knee. Yep, still painful. It must sound crazy to anyone reading this. If it hadn't happened in both meetings I wouldn't believe it myself! 

By the time we get back to the car I can't move my legs at all. Getting me out of the wheelchair is torture. Putting my legs down hurts like hell. I then have to deal with the shooting, stabbing pains going through my feet as I place them on the ground. Getting out of the chair and into the car involves Eric pushing me up, whilst I push on the right arm of the chair and pull myself up with my left arm. It is a real struggle and excruciatingly painful. I spend the minimum amount of time standing, instead collapse onto the car seat. Eric has to lift the fleecy cosy and swing my legs into the car, whilst I use my arms to twist the rest of me around. No way I can do it myself. 

The journey home provides yet more torture. There is no optimum speed anymore, every speed sends waves of burning pain running up and down my legs, every bump escalating the pain further. I can't feel my legs, all there is is pain. It is very disconcerting not being able to tell where your legs and feet are. Hard to describe but the best analogy I can think of is walking a dog when it's foggy. You know he's not far away but for the life of you, it's impossible to place him. I sit there doing my best not to think about my legs, but fail miserably. A journey of about 20 minutes feels like a lifetime. All I want is get back to the comfort of my chair, get the shoes and socks off that my feet detest so much. I've gone so far beyond the point where I can cope.

For the first time ever Eric had to get a neighbour to come and help get me from the car into the house. Having swung my legs round, I was unable to put my feet on the ground at all without feeling as if there was a stake being hammered through them. It's a horrible place to be mentally. All you want to do is get inside but equally making yourself move even slightly is so hard. You're stuck between a rock and a hard place. Every tiny movement will be unbearable, but the longer you take the harder and more painful it becomes. Definitely a case of mind over matter. Between the two of them they got me to my feet and we shuffled incredibly slowly towards the first of the half steps that lead into the house. Hands safely on the bars, Eric lifts my left leg onto the step. I pull myself up. One down two to go. Still being supported I shuffle forward to the next step. Again Eric lifts my leg onto the step. I pull myself up but the toe of my right shoe gets caught on the edge of the step. I'm stuck, can't do anything about it. Hannah, knowing no better grabs my foot and puts it onto the step. The pain, oh God, the pain! Just as well the bars were there supporting me because I just slumped sideways onto the right handrail, screaming in agony. To be honest the rest is a blur. 

Finally I am back in my chair, with a hot cup of tea and Bella lying across my lap, licking me. I am always guaranteed a wonderful welcome by all the dogs but Bella and I share a very special bond. She spends the vast majority of her time lying across my lap and is a huge comfort. She has an uncanny way of missing my legs when she jumps on and off or when she's on my lap. Whenever I've been out she spends ages licking me, wagging her tail. Hates it when I go out, regardless of the fact that it's a rare occurrence. Looks thoroughly miserable, bless her. Life is all the better having her in my life. Especially when I'm feeling at my worst.

Over the course of the next few days I sit in my chair slowly coming back to life with pain levels gradually reducing to their 'normal' levels. The first morning is awful. I wake up and everything hurts, well that's how it feels. Sea of pain where my legs should be. Eyes bloodshot and very painful, vision blurred. First tablets at 6am and then it's a case of sitting there in the hope that I improve. No chance! The weekend is lost to sleep and when I'm not sleeping I can do nothing but sit and fester. Can't even read to try and take my mind off the pain. Only time I get up is to use the commode. The amount of heat that pumps off my legs is astonishing, or bizarrely they may be freezing cold. One thing is for sure, CRPS throws everything it can at me, punishment for daring to go out and watch the sport I love. It is normally Tuesday when my pain levels return to anything like their normal levels. And then of course the process of preparing for the next one begins. Wednesday provides the only window of opportunity to go out, escape the prison cell that is my chair in the living room.

As there were three meetings on the trot (including the abortive one) it became increasingly difficult to recover to the point that I simply didn't manage it at all. Every day as bad as the one before. No going out, no tiny bits of exercise. Life has just been about trying to be in the best condition to go to speedway again. My CRPS has flared to the extreme. It is only now some two and a half weeks after the last meeting that it is settling. I would have written this blog post weeks ago but it was absolutely impossible. I did try to increase my slow relief morphine from 40mg to 50mg in the hope it would help. As it made little, if any difference to my pain levels I am reverting back. Senseless to take something with the extra side-effects if it isn't helping.

As I sit finishing this post, it is Tuesday. There is a speedway meeting this Friday, followed by two others in succession. I know what to expect now, but it won't stop me. My determination to go to each meeting remains as solid as ever. CRPS will just have to do it's worst. 

Last one.. for this season

CRPS does it's best to stop you doing anything and everything. From something as simple as having a bath, to going out, say to the shops. Everything I do has to be planned, in fact leaving the house to go anywhere is like a military operation. Every part is an ordeal, from being helped out of my chair, being helped to get dressed, shuffling out to the car, being helped into the car, the added pain that comes from having my legs down/vibrations from the car, being helped from the car into my electric wheelchair.... you get the picture. Without the constant support from my husband the house, no actually, the living room would be a prison. Even long standing appointments have to go by the wayside if I simply don't feel up to all that it involves. Spontaneity is not a word that applies to my life anymore. You literally have to force yourself to do things in the knowledge that you will pay for it tomorrow, the day after or even the day after that.

I talked, in my last post about adding new things into my life after I got CRPS. As time has gone on some of these have fallen by the wayside, simply because the benefit or pleasure gained is not worth the pain and the payback. I keep talking about 'payback' but what does that actually mean for a CRPS sufferer?

My payback varies in intensity depending on what I've done but there is no escaping it. Minor payback is characterised by increased pain in my legs and feet, a little more swelling. I will also feel tired and mildly 'punch drunk'. This typically lasts for the rest of the day after I've done something such as have a bath or go out really briefly, say for a dental appointment.

At worst the pain is so bad that I don't know what to do with myself, the exhaustion is such that I literally have no control over whether I'm awake or not and I feel so unwell that I can do nothing other than sit in the chair and wait it out. I can't even read. Concentration is impossible. My head throbs, I feel as if I have a thick fog around my head, stabbing pains in my eyes, which also become very bloodshot. Oh, and the swelling increases to the point where my skin feels too tight. Typically we're looking at 2-3 days of this before I start to feel 'better', i.e. when the pain, exhaustion, swelling etc return to 'normal' levels

You can now probably understand why there is the constant weighing up going on in my mind about whether what I am going to do is worth what will inevitably come later. Experience plays a large part. I know if I go to the local shopping centre, Lakeside I will be incapable of doing much for the rest of the day or the next. I was never able to go food shopping before I got my electric wheelchair but this again causes lengthy payback so it is not a regular thing. I no longer go anywhere to do archery, preferring to do it in the back garden, because I don't have the added ordeals of getting dressed, travelling there and back and so on.
 
I also need to plan ahead in an attempt to minimise the payback. Say we're going to try and go shopping on Wednesday. I will endeavour to do as little as possible the day before, so that I feel 'at my best' (or rather my interpretation of) on the morning of my trip out. Of course it doesn't help a lot and it is just as well I'm a bloody-minded, cantankerous wotsit and do things anyway otherwise I really wouldn't leave the house. Which brings me to the title of this post. 'Last one.. for this season'. What am I talking about?

In a word..... Speedway.

My view of the Speedway track

A friend took me along very early on in my CRPS days. He'd said to me about going several times pre-CRPS but I'd never take him up on it. After all there was so much else in my life. Now however there was nothing to stop me. We went to Press & Practice at Arena Essex, where the Arena Essex (now Lakeside) Hammers ride from March through to October. It wasn't a proper meeting, it was more about blowing away the cobwebs and getting ready for the new season. I loved it! The smell, the roar of the bikes, the speed, everything. I then went to my first meeting and it was fantastic. Four riders going hell for leather for four laps. A heat lasts less than a minute but it seems so much longer. So much can happen in 60 seconds, it's like a game of chess. The rider in front trying second guess the chasing riders to maintain the lead. For those chasing it's a case of trying other lines, trying to force a mistake. Did I mention they have no brakes? It takes a hell of a lot of bottle to go at speeds of up to about 80mph with little protection apart from a set of Kevlars and some body armour underneath.

My thirst for speedway isn't limited to watching th Lakeside Hammers in action live at Arena Essex. I also watch Elite League  and Grand Prix Speedway on Sky Sports, Polish Extraliga, Swedish Elitserien and Allsvenkan Speedway meetings streamed live on the Internet. Plus any other meetings I can find. It has become an integral part of my life, an absolute passion. I can't imagine life without Speedway, the Winter is bad enough!


Speedway is the only thing that truly takes my mind off the pain. It is so absorbing, plus there is the camaraderie of those who stand near me each meeting, every season. There is the debate about who we'd put in as a rider replacement, how the points will be shared in the next heat, how good or bad the referee's decision was for an incident. We moan when the team aren't doing as well as we think they should and celebrate our riders' achievements.

The lengths I go to to watch speedway

Unfortunately speedway rates at the top of the ranking in terms of payback. During the Summer when you can have a meeting each Friday for several weeks, my life becomes little more than trying to get over one meeting and prepare for the next. Saturday morning I wake feeling as if I've been hit by a bus. I wait for my tablets to kick in, but they only help a little. I don't remember much of the weekend, spending most of it unconscious. It isn't sleep because I don't get a say in it. I can't fight it, I literally pass out.
By about Tuesday I have rallied enough to possibly go to the Lakeside Shopping Centre. But that's it for the week. The rest of the time is spent doing as little as possible in preparation for Friday again.

Each season has become that little bit harder. If I'm honest this season has almost been too difficult. The pain has broken through more during the meeting and by the time we get back to the car the pain has become absolutely unbearable. How Eric gets me from the car back into the house, undresses me and gets me sat in the sanctuary that is my reclining chair is beyond me..

I am proud to say that despite all that I've described, my attendance has been nearly faultless again this season, as it has been in previous ones.It doesn't matter how I feel I go, it isn't up for discussion.  No matter what CRPS throws at me I will continue to go to speedway. I refuse to let CRPS stop me doing this where it has so many other things since I got it.....  the line has been drawn and is one that I don't intend to to be pulled over anytime soon!

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